

“Once people knew who I was, they became more comfortable with using me as some sort of punchline or joke. But the fact that these images exist, that she - in all of her singing/rapping/twerking/flute-playing panache - exists in the pop realm is significant, especially when taking into account that Special is the only album by a female artist released in 2022 to reach the Top 2 in the US. I might not consider photos of Lizzo (or anyone else, for that matter) in a barely-there two-piece with her butt hanging out for the entire world to see as “empowerment” (how that word has been abused in this day and age!). I’ve said this before: I grew up in an era where you had to adhere to a certain look or image to be a pop star.


In a lot of ways, I think it’s a necessary tool to use its proliferation in recent times is down to the fact that certain groups of people were not allowed a seat at the table, whatever or wherever the table is. Now here’s the thing: I don’t mind identity politics. It is no wonder, then, that Lizzo, in all of her descriptors - female and Black and fat and vegan and liberal - possesses such a broad appeal, especially in the identity politics-based times we live in. While it holds true to any social hierarchy, popular music and culture are spaces where cult of personality is the ultimate currency despite often manifesting itself in toxic, insidious forms. “To her most devoted fans, and even to some casual listeners, these gestures towards inclusivity can mean the world. “At a time when the relationship between artist and fan is in flux with each social media platform update, Lizzo has made it a point to listen and learn, for the most part,” writes Claire Shaffer in an otherwise lukewarm review of Lizzo’s latest album, Special, for Pitchfork.
